1. Bad... at least for fabrics and floors. Whenever you drop something that has peanut butter on one side of it, the object will always land peanut-butter side down. I've tested this (albeit informally) frequently enough to have my findings accepted by a scientific journal. Unfortunately, I've been too busy cleaning up peanut butter to have jotted down all the data required for publication. I'm glad Sir Isaac Newton didn't have access to peanut butter, or scientists would have a different, far more complicated theory of gravity to work with. Peanut butter on that apple would have messed things up royally in more ways than one. (I have not experimented with dropping peanut-buttered cats, by the way.)
2. Bad. I have pre-hypertension. Me! I had my blood pressure measured twice into two days and it was higher than "normal." Usually it's borderline low. I didn't get any lectures or warnings, but I know what those numbers mean. The first reading could have been high because I was pretty upset after finally finding out what I weigh (more than I'd like but less than I'd expected) at my doctor's yesterday. But I thought I was relaxed when I asked the allergy nurse to check it today. Was it high because I was worried that it was high? The nurse pointed out that she'd also just jabbed me with needles, which is stressful. But I'd hardly noticed them; I was busy worrying about my blood pressure. It's Not Fair: I'm a healthy weight, I walk at least 5 miles a day, I lift weights, I never smoked, I don't drink, I avoid red meat and junk food, and I'm not that stressed. What gives? Okay, so I'm OLD... and on the Pill. Time to take up running, I guess.
3. Good with Potential to be Bad. This is a small town. I started talking to someone I ran into at the polls. He was chatting with somebody he knew, a stranger to me. I started talking to her, and after less than a minute, I found out she knows a close relative of ours. Not a big deal, but she knew a thing or two about her that we didn't realize. It was a strange, helpful conversation; my relative has health issues and this woman shed some light on the situation. But our talk was cut short when another friend came over to talk to me. Lots of people in Back Bay know everybody and can't go anywhere without constantly stopping to chat. But I'm not one of those people — and I know them all, of course.
4. Bad. Ayana Pressley's campaign communications team needs less caffeine and funding. I'm afraid they won't be able to stop themselves from calling, or emailing, or sending me glossy brochures after tonight.
5. Good. Asian pears and Spencer apples are amazing sweet, crispy and flavorful, especially if you've been deprived of fruit for two weeks.
6. Bad. Trader Joe's discontinued our favorite fresh mild salsa, the One Thing that made two weeks of South Beach Diet dinners bearable. I have one precious tub, which I'll cherish until closer to its expiration date. This salsa no cilantro. Even a pinhead-size piece of cilantro ruins a meal for me. It's like adding s squirt of moldy dishwashing liquid. Unless they offer an alternative, my Mexican-style casseroles are history.
7. Good. KitchenWares on Newbury can sharpen pruning shears as well as knives and scissors. I must get my shears in shape for their big annual December performance, wreath-decorating for the Garden Club of the Back Bay. Order your wreath now. Proceeds help care for neighborhood street trees and help fund other plant-related community programs.
8. Good but "Bad." A crèpe restaurant is opening on Newbury Street above La Voile. If they have dessert crèpes like those in Paris, I'll be doomed to life on hypertension meds.
9. Bad. Kitchenwares says that Le Creuset is discontinuing one of their prettiest, oldest colors: cobalt blue. Buy it up now because it disappears early next year.
10. Very, Very Bad. But not surprising. Tonight the vet called with Snicky's test results. As expected, there's a malignancy somewhere. She's too frail to withstand chemo or invasive tests. But she's doing better these days now that she's taking steroid and anti-nausea pills, which are the palliative treatment. She purred on my husband's chest tonight for the first time in a while. She's chomping kibble at my feet right now as we play her carry-the-toy-to-the-food-bowl game. The vet says we have to take it one week at a time, as she'll eventually either stop eating or become too weak to move comfortably. We're determined that she'll enjoy as much as she can at the end of her life, and we'll do our damnedest to make sure she doesn't suffer. Here's hoping she can lie on the Christmas paper and chew on ribbons as my wrapping helper for one more year....